


Adoring gazes (reserved for early-morning coffee)

by Kangoo



Category: Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft
Genre: Academia, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Coffee Shops, Fantasy Racism, I'm so sorry, M/M, Rommath is a good friend, This got away from me, and ranting about academia, this is just 2k words of kael being grumpy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-30
Updated: 2018-11-30
Packaged: 2019-09-02 21:18:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16794919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kangoo/pseuds/Kangoo
Summary: Kael'thas has two degrees. Illidan is hot. The Kirin Tor is full of elitists dicks. Mornings are evil. Somehow, this is all somewhat related.





	Adoring gazes (reserved for early-morning coffee)

**Author's Note:**

> title from troubled birds (because i'm dumb)
> 
> this was supposed to be a christmas special but it didn't go with the rest so here you go, have fun. it's fundamentally pointless

Kael’thas lives too close to the Kirin Tor to bother with taking the overcrowded bus, yet too far to see the twenty minutes walk there as anything but a chore at best and cruel and unusual punishment at worst. Every morning he wakes up, looks out the window and thinks, _is a second degree at the continent’s most prestigious magical university really worth the hassle_.

Usually that’s around when his door is kicked open by Rommath, who as his best friend and colleague has taken it as his Light-given mission to get Kael’thas to class on time (those he teaches, he’s on his own for the rest). By this point he has around fifteen minutes to don his ‘functional adult’ costume before his actual functioning adult of a best friend throws him in the passenger’s seat of the overly expensive car he blew his salary on.

Are the Kirin Tor’s professor the best paid on the planet? Probably. Is it enough to justify buying a Jaguar? No, but that’s never stopped Rommath before. It’s like the guy’s allergic to money, with the way he blows it on full tattoo sleeves and luxury cars and who knows what else.

(Kael’thas’ first decision when he won back the right to his father’s money was to put away a… _sizable_ amount of money just in case Rommath ever needs it. It hasn’t come to this, but still. Friends don’t let friends live in squalor because of poor budgeting decisions.)

So. Usual routine: Kael’thas wakes up, regrets all his choices for half an hour, then gets dragged out of bed by Rommath banging at his door and tries to fit an hour worth of hair and makeup routine in a third of the time before doing the same with the breakfast Rommath inevitably came with while his friend drives, doing his best to keep his coffee off the car’s upholstery.

This has been the case for the past few years, and it would have continued this way until the eventuality of Kael’thas learning to operate as a responsible adult if not for one teeny, tiny detail:

Professor Illidan Stormrage leaving the Suramar Academy of Magical Arts to come teach at the Kirin Tor.

It’s not everyday that someone gives up a position at the SAMA to join its infamously prejudiced rival. The two schools are almost equal in political intrigue and funding alike, but the SAMA is just… older, and by far more welcoming to elven students and professors (if only to them). It’s practically unheard of. Yet the facts remain the same: Illidan, their youngest and best known alumni-turned-researcher, did exactly that.

Apparently, he wanted to see the world beyond the Kaldorei Republic, and ‘disagreed with the management decisions of the SAMA on a fundamental level’. He could have just said they cut his funding, that would have been less of a mouthful.

Kael’thas spent an awful amount of effort pretending he didn’t care about the news beyond his interest for Professor Stormrage’s research. He has fooled no one. How could he, when he spent his first three hours of class with the man gazing at his face, half a second from openly drooling at all time?

Somewhere around October he stopped lying to himself, and that’s when his routine fell apart.

A smitten Kael’thas tends to be somewhat obsessive, borderline stalkerish even. Without the need to explain his behavior rationally, he had no problem getting his hand on the man’s schedule. And, once he made peace with the fact that he is into That (‘that’ being Illidan in general but his _tall, dark and handsome_ qualities in particular), he fully accepted his fate.

Because for some ungodly reason, most of Illidan’s classes are either very early or very late. And if Kael’thas hopes to catch a glimpse of him out of his lab, he’s going to have to live on this schedule too.

That’s why he is currently awake at half past seven am on a Friday morning, nursing a hangover and a cup of coffee as he waits for Illidan to enter Hero’s Welcome, the coffee shop down the street from the school that he _knows_ the man visits every morning on his way to work.

He knows that because, for the last two weeks, Kael’thas has been there too. Every day. Seven am on the dot. Barely functioning on five hours of sleep, in the hope of getting a few minutes of uninterrupted staring at Illidan’s very nice ass.

He’s not proud of his decisions, but at this point it’s too late to give up. It’s almost worth it for Rommath’s face alone when he realizes Kael’thas is not only awake but has been functioning and out of the house for hours by the time he comes knocking.

“May I sit?”

Kael’thas jumps and looks up from his coffee, blinking owlishly at the person addressing him.

The clock on the other side of the room reads _7:37_ and Illidan is talking to him.

“I-” He covers a yawn with his hand. “Yes, sure, go for it.”

Illidan smirks, clearly enjoying this a little too much. He sits gracefully in the chair, bright-eyed for reasons completely unrelated to the unearthly green glow of his eyes. Damn morning persons.

“I’ve seen you around quite a lot lately. Are you a student here?” He jerks his head in the vague direction of the Kirin Tor, the blue glow of arcane crystals faintly visible on the cobblestone streets in the dim, early-morning light.

Kael’thas is briefly thrown off-guard by the fact that Illidan has apparently _notice him_ , which is more than he ever expected from the man. Then the rest of the sentence manages to pierce through the sleepiness and vague panic of knowing his crush has been Aware of him for quite some time. He straightens up.

(He has kept many habits and skills from his years as a student, first in Silvermoon and now in Dalaran. The ability to eat anything, sleep anywhere, debate with anyone over things he knows nothing about. Most fade with time as he learns again to be a somewhat responsible adult, with specific taste in food and an actual sleep schedule. But there’s one he can’t get rid of, no matter how hard he tries to stop caring: if someone makes an offhand comment that could possibly, maybe, eventually be considered an insult, his brain immediately switches to a kind of autopilot, dredging enough pride from the depth of his exhaustion to be insulted by it and waking up the few brain cells he still has to defend himself.

It has saved his academic career multiple times when a teacher questioned him unexpectedly as he was dozing in class. He can’t say it has done the same with his dating life.)

He rolls his eyes. “Professor, actually.” He smiles the sharpest smile he can muster before nine am and extends his hand over the table. “Kael’thas Sunstrider. I teach fifth year Abjuration while getting a second degree in Enchantments.” A pause. “Third, actually. Sorry.” _How many do **you** have?_ He doesn’t ask, but it is so heavily implied he can almost hear it anyway.

Already he’s cringing inside, waiting for the usual reaction his attitude gets him. Turns out, being insufferably high up your own ass? Not that attractive!

But Illidan just— chuckles, and shakes his hand. “Illidan Stormrage, Fel Studies professor. My apologies. I didn’t expect any other professor to be awake at such an hour.”

Kael’thas lets out a disgusted sound. He reluctantly takes his hand back before it gets awkward and wraps it around his coffee cup. He stares off into the distance. “It’s just- _so early_ ,” he agrees. “I’ve been trying to… train myself into being a respectable adult with a real sleep schedule and let me tell you, it’s not as fun as I thought it would be.”

“Did you really expect ‘being awake before eight am’ to be _fun_?”

“No! _That’s_ how bad it is!”

He looks back toward Illidan and his irritation disappears in a blink. He’s too distracted by the small smirk on those lips, the calmly amused air the man manages to give off despite his intimidating outer appearance.

They sip their drinks in silence for a moment, Illidan content to bask in the quiet morning atmosphere while Kael’thas glares at nothing and regrets his choice. On the one hand, he’s freaking out, because this is _Illidan Stormrage_ and he’s _talking to him_ and _drinking coffee with him_ and that’s, like, ten of his teenage fantasies in one go. On the other hand, it’s not even eight am yet, and he doesn’t have the mental faculty to muster up excitement yet.

Finally, Illidan makes a humming sound — accidentally sending a delighted chill down Kael’thas’ spine because, _hot_ — and looks away from the window, resting his captivating gaze on Kael’thas once more.

“What makes someone pursue a third degree?”

“What made you transfer from a university you were well established in to the _Kirin Tor_ , of all places?” He replies, equally nonchalant despite his sharp curiosity. “I heard you were on the fast tracks to becoming Vice-Headmaster.”

Illidan scoffs. “They wouldn’t let me continue my research, so I went for the only place stupid and reckless enough to let me do so. What made _you_ go back to being a student despite your well-established position in Silvermoon, Professor Sunstrider?”

“So you know me,” he muses. Interesting. “And call me Kael’thas. It’s too early to remember I actually have a degree already.”

“Hard not to. Your work on arcane shield is phenomenal. Is it true you came up with the Shock Barrier by accident?”

He waves a hand in dismissal. “Depends what you mean by accident. I worked on a mana shield that would prove to be more resilient to non-magical damage and it turned out to be more of a breakthrough than I had imagined. Nothing overly dramatic. Although I do wish I had stumbled upon it like they keep saying I did— it sounds like a lot less work.”

“Huh.” Illidan sips his coffee, thoughtful. “I didn’t think you were the kind to mind hard work.”

Kael’thas lets out a sharp laugh. “I’ve never worked hard a _second_ in my entire life. I’m a prodigy, Stormrage, the passion’s just a secondary effect. Creating a whole new spell was fun, so I did it willingly. The boring part was writing the paper about it, and I only did _that_ because they promised me a second degree free of charge if I did.”

“Well, that would explain what you’re doing getting a third degree here.”

This gives Kael’thas a pause. Does it?

He glances down his cup and throws back what’s left of his coffee, almost glad for the scalding heat. Light, but it’s cold today. Lucky Illidan Stormrage (!!) is here to make things interesting, because nothing else is worth getting up that early in that kind of weather. Then he leans back in his chair and, still holding his empty cup, gestures toward the other man.

“See, that’s not true. I hate getting degrees. Don’t get me wrong, I _love_ research work, but- grades? Essays? _Finals_? That’s way more stress than I need in my life, even more so on top of my teaching. I wanted to get into the most prestigious college of magi in the world, though, so here I am. Getting another degree. As you do.”

Illidan quirks an eyebrow at that, his smirk coming back in full force. “You’re aiming for the SAMA then?”

“Don’t be cute, Stormrage. The SAMA might have some of the most powerful graduates of any college of magi, but it doesn’t have the political weight of the Kirin Tor.” He waves his empty cup around, already annoyed. “But that’s the problem, isn’t it? They’re so- so sure of their superiority, they think it gives them the right to look down on any other school. That’s why I’m a part-time professor only: they wouldn’t let me teach Enchantments without a proof of my abilities. Would a test have been sufficient? Yes. Did they make me get a new degree instead? Of course they did.”

“That sounds-”

“Stupid? It is!”

“I was about to say ‘coherent’, actually.”

“The thing is,” he says, leaning forward like a conspirator. “In Silvermoon, you only need a proof of abilities to teach a class. I _already_ taught Enchantments there. But of course that’s not enough proof for the _Kirin Tor_ , no sir! And do you know why?”

Illidan leans forward too, raising his eyebrows, taking the bait. “Why?”

He claps his hands together, then opens them in front of him as if he’s about to present to Illidan an incredible fact. His face sobers up suddenly as he says, deadpan, “It’s racism.” He shrugs. “That’s it. That’s the answer. They’re racist and don’t believe a Silvermoon position is worthy of making me eligible for the same one at the Kirin tor. Elitist fuckers.” He mutters the last words under his breath, mouth twisting in annoyance.

Illidan leans back, throwing a quick glance at the clock. He grins and says, “Well, as much as seven am is a Light-forsaken hour, I can’t say I regret being awake. Considering my classes today, hearing you rant at the inherent elitism of the world of academia might be the highlight of my day.”

Kael’thas almost blushes at that. He got carried away, didn’t he? He refuses to get flustered, though, and meet Illidan’s eyes with a level look.

“Consider me honored to have provided you with such quality entertainment, then.” Then, because Kael’thas’ brain is a traitor who awoke just long enough to rant about his hatred for the Kirin Tor’s management before leaving him to his own device again, he adds, “We could do this again, if you want. Over dinner, maybe? At a time that doesn’t make me want to commit manslaughter quite so much?”

Oh dear.

Decades spent trusting his brain as his most powerful weapon, and it turns out to be a double-edged sword. Or a very dull, easily-slipping kitchen knife.

Illidan’s face breaks into a full-blown grin. “I would _love_ to.”

(They exchange numbers before they leave, Illidan toward the Kirin Tor and his eight am class, Kael’thas to his bed to get a few precious hours of sleep before he has to teach something to stupid people. He’s almost too giddy to walk straight, and he fills the walk home by sending a series of text to Rommath. Most are an indecipherable mess of letters and numbers, followed by _I actually got a date and you’ll **never** believe with who_.

 _unless u scored a date w illidan himself i don’t care and im going back to sleep_ , he gets back.

_Well you better get out of bed right now because BOY do I have some news for you._

And then he turns off his phone and goes back to sleep. Let Rommath wonder about that for a while.)


End file.
